


Which Way is Better?

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-31
Updated: 2006-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal





	Which Way is Better?

"Yes. Yes, I'm ready."

"So, whats the stopword? Do you want to use the same one from last time?"

"Okay. That's fine. _Crumpets_."

"Good....are you _sure_ about this?"

"Yes, _yes_ , I'm sure!"

"Don't you _dare_ use that tone of voice with me," snarled Patrick in a low voice, falling cleanly into character, and Pete shivered. Patrick was sitting on the other side of the room, and he got up out of the chair he was in and advanced on Pete. Pete stepped back, his eyes on the floor, until his back was against the wall, and Patrick was right in front of him, their bodies almost touching. Pete ached to reach out and grab him. But that was a no-no. He would be punished for that.

"You want to _touch_ me," Patrick smiled darkly, watching as Pete's fingers twitched. "But you know you shouldn't unless I _tell_ you to. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir," Pete murmured, and folded his hands behind his back, still not looking at Patrick. He felt Patrick's hands pushing through his hair, forcing his face back up and then Patrick kissed him. Slowly. He shivered again, but didn't kiss back, simply letting Patrick's tongue roam around his mouth. Oh. It felt so good, and try as he might, he couldn't help but let out a low moan. Patrick pulled back immediately, and his grip tightened in Pete's hair, causing him to gasp a little in pain. He was hard already, and his cock jerked as Patrick's hands continued to pull at his hair.

"You made a sound!" Patrick exclaimed in dark glee, and began to drag Pete by his _hair_ to the bedroom. Pete tried to pull back, a little reflex-action and a little bit sheer mulishness, and Patrick actually slapped him. He reeled back against the wall, shocked and totally turned-on by the stinging sensation on his jaw. Patrick glared at him, his eyes sharp icy points, and Pete returned his gaze to the ground. "You made a sound, _and_ you resisted me. You're being a bad boy tonight."

"I'm so sorry, sir," Pete whispered, horrified at his actions. What would Patrick do to him now? He felt his wrist being grabbed painfully and he was being dragged again. Patrick might be short, but he was surprisingly strong, and he shoved Pete onto the bed, so hard that Pete bounced. Pete scrambled back, going to rest his back on the bedhead. He felt the bed dip down as Patrick kneeled on it and Pete risked looking at him to see Patrick _crawling_ towards him, looking for all the world like a determined cat stalking its prey. Pete nearly fainted with want.

Patrick straddled him, looking into his face and Pete dropped his eyes. Patrick bent his head and started to suck on his neck, biting _hard_ and sucking, and Pete swallowed all his moans, because he was already in enough trouble as it was. He settled on shallow gasps, which was fine by Patrick, who pulled back and stared, pleased, at the large shocking mark he had left on the tender golden skin on Pete's neck. He decided to leave a twin of that mark on the other side, and Pete stuffed his hands underneath his own thighs to prevent himself from grabbing onto Patrick.

Patrick pulled back, satisfied, and then fixed a steely look on Pete, whose head had fallen back on the bedhead, eyes closed. Patrick thought for a minute, and then rested back on Pete's thighs.

"Look at me," he commanded silkily, and Pete's eyes opened instantly, his eyes nearly all pupil. Patrick leaned forward and kissed him again, because he really couldn't resist, and he kept his eyes open, watching Pete's flutter shut again, and he bit his lip, hard. Pete's eyes reopened, chagrined. Patrick pulled back, amused.

"Take off my shirt, Pete. And take yours off as well."

He felt Pete rock a little beneath him as he pulled his hands from under his legs, and Patrick could feel how hard he was already. He smiled as Pete reached out and pulled his shirt over his head carefully, folding it and placing it on the bedside table. He then removed his own shirt slowly and did the same. Patrick hated it when he just threw the clothes about.

Patrick grasped him around his ribcage, so that his thumbs were pressing into the skin right below Pete's nipples and Pete squirmed.

"Next time I want you to come with me," Patrick began softly, pressing in harder with his thumbs and then moving them up slowly, leaving bruises in their wake, "you _come_. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, sir," Pete responded breathlessly, wincing as Patrick's thumbs pressed excrutiatingly into his nipples, and then all around them. It was painful, and Pete was painfully hard.

"For that, what will be your punishment?" Patrick mused, not easing up the pressure of his thumbs. "I know. You get fucked. _Hard_. And face-down."

Pete's body went into tremors at just the thought of that, at just the word _fucked_ coming out of Patrick's perfect bow mouth. He couldn't _believe_ he was coming already. Patrick pressed his pelvis down, grinding into him, riding his crotch until Pete was over it, and then looked down at him, concerned. Pete's hazel eyes were filled with apology and desire, and Patrick almost relented until he remembered that Pete was the one who had practically begged him for this. _Alright_ , he thought, l _et's go through with this_.

"Get up," he snapped, rolling off Pete and stripping completely. "Get your clothes off, and get the things."

Pete got up, still trembling a little, and opened the side-table drawer. He took out a few items and laid each carefully on the bed, side by side, his eyes always averted from Patrick. That was a part of the whole thing. _Never_ look at Patrick unless he said so. Never do _anything_ unless he said so. He took off his jeans and his boxers, feeling Patrick's eyes resting heavily on him.

"Come here," he heard Patrick say, and he went. Patrick said so. "Lie down. You know how."

Pete knelt on the bed, near the head of it, on his elbows and knees, placing his forearms flat against the bars of the bedhead. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself as Patrick tied his wrists to those same bars. His arms would be cramped and tingly in no time flat. And oh, he was getting hard again. The entire place went dark as Patrick tied the blindfold around his eyes. Pete swallowed a whimper, and jumped as he felt cool jelly being slipped gently into him. Patrick slid one finger in and out leisurely, and then scissored another one in, and Pete's stomach muscles were just jumping in anticipation. The fingers were removed, and Pete was left. Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

When he almost couldn't take it anymore, and was ready to break down and _plead_ , he felt Patrick slide in too hard and too fast. He gasped out, almost a low scream, and Patrick slid in and out again, the condom hitching and rubbing, and still Pete had to keep making any noise. It was so rough, but he could do this. Right?

"You can make a sound now," he heard Patrick say in an almost solicitous manner, his hips being grasped tightly. "Go on."

Pete groaned out in relief, and moaned even more as he felt Patrick's hand snake around and grasp his throbbing cock. Squeezing hard and pistoning up and down. Pete was blacking out. He couldn't take it. It was too good and too much.

"Crumpets," he gasped out, and instantly Patrick stopped. And pulled away. Pete was a little regretful, but his bonds were unfastened rapidly, and his blindfold torn off. He found himself being turned over in a blur, and pressed into the soft mattress with Patrick's body. Patrick kissed him gently on both cheeks.

"Are you alright?"

Pete could have wept. A completely different Patrick was looking down at him, the Patrick from before, his eyes now a soft shade of blue. He closed his own eyes and nodded, speechless, as Patrick rubbed his arms, coaxing back the blood back into them. "I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out, and he felt Patrick laugh a little.

"For what? Don't be silly."

Pete looked back up at him and smiled, a small one.

"I want you to continue though," he said hopefully, and Patrick laughed a little more, shaking his head.

"Alright. If that's what you want."  
   
He pulled up his knees invitingly and Patrick slid in again, slowly this time. Pete moaned out, glad to finally be able to do that without waiting on permission, and Patrick leaned down and licked his mouth. _Licked_ it. Pete arched up into him, wrapping his legs around his waist and bucking up into each thrust.

"Which do you like better?" Patrick asked, gasping into Pete's ear. "Do you like it this way? Or the other way?"

" _Any_ way. As long as it's with you," Pete choked out, his whole body locking up and then shuddering. Patrick kept on for only a few thrusts more, before he grasped onto Pete's shoulders and kissed him as he came.

*

"What's the word you want to use, Patrick?"

"Same word _you_ used. Crumpets."


End file.
